


the pretty lies/the ugly truth

by lum1nary0fSTARS



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Based off a dream, Depression, Grief, Hearing Voices, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Rantaro Amami, I kin him, In Pain Rantaro Amami, M/M, Multi, Other, POV Amami Rantaro, Sad Rantaro Amami, Suicidal Rantaro Amami, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Notes, im not fine lol, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lum1nary0fSTARS/pseuds/lum1nary0fSTARS
Summary: don't read if youre triggeredbasically rantaro k/lls himself and thoughts before
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/K1-B0/Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	the pretty lies/the ugly truth

**Author's Note:**

> I kin this man and had a shit day yesterday so vent yay

God he couldn’t do this anymore.

He was 28 and his sisters had been lost for over 10 years. Some more than that. Obviously they would’ve forgotten about him, so they wouldn’t miss him.

Dad never cared anyways, he just wanted a son to spend his money on. He didn’t deserve that.

Rantaro chuckled weakly, tears streaming down his face. Now that he was alone, he could finally break that god-forsaken mask that he had been wearing for years. He curled in on himself, loud, ugly sobs ringing through the apartment. His boyfriends were out. Without him. He had messaged the chat saying that he was coming home early, only for all of them to leave him on seen. They had probably forgotten about him.

They didn’t care.

Good.

He didn’t want them to. 

His laughter only grew louder as the voices in his head yelled at him. Sometimes they sounded like his sister, or his mother, once or twice his father. Sometimes it was Kaito, mocking and sadist, or Kokichi, sneering and laughing at him. When it was Shuichi and Keebo, though? It hurt a lot. He remembered when Korekiyo spoke to him and he couldn’t tell if it was real or not. So of course his stupid self had a panic attack, luckily running out of the room before anyone else noticed. But Korekiyo told Kirumi, who asked if he was okay.

No. He had wanted to say. Maybe some selfish part of him wanted someone, anyone to check on him, to ask if he was okay, if he needed a shoulder to cry on. But it never came. After all, he was Rantaro Amami, the Ultimate Survivor. After the killing game, everyone was worried about Shuichi, or Kaito, or Kaede. No one cares about the first victim. That’s why they’re killed off first. He wondered why he hadn’t stayed dead.

Ultimate Survivor. 

He laughed to himself. The voice came back in his head. Shuichi. “Not for long.” He said and Rantaro grinned, tears in his eyes that he didn’t bother wipe. “Yep, ain’t that right, Shu?” 

Now it was Kokichi. 

“Wow! You failed at all your talents, Ultimate Survivior, because you’re gonna kill yourself now since you’re weak, Ultimate Adventurer because, honestly, what a useless thing! What are you, some Dora Knockoff? And Ultimate “Big Brother’. Woooow, that’s the one you failed at most. You couldn’t even find one of your sisters after you got them lost!”

The laugh echoed in his head. 

“No wonder you got killed first. You’re just some shady, creepy guy.” Keebo’s voice joined them. 

“And you’re useless! No one cares!” Kaito yelled at him.

Rantaro covered his ears, screaming for them to stop as the tears rushed faster. Everything was blurry and he couldn’t write properly anymore. It didn’t care. It’s not like anyone would actually try and read the paper. It’s not like it cared. He’ll probably just be an attention-seeking burden and they’ll have to clean up his mess, like usual. 

“God-” He wiped his tears on the sleeve of his suit jacket. He had made a decent try to look good, for them to not see him as the mess he was. He was supposed to be like Kaito, he was supposed to help, but when Kaito eventually admitted, he had to look after them.

It’s not like he minded, he loved helping them. But each time one asked if he was okay, that’s when he didn’t like it.

“I’m fine guys, don’t worry.” He reassured, glad his voice wasn’t shaky. 

He was weak and wondered who would mourn him. And why? Why in god’s name would people mourn such a failure. He was probably just attention-seeking. And weak.

Rantaro cocked the gun in his hand. He was glad he was weak. He was glad he was hit with that shot put ball, because it didn’t give him any pain. He didn’t like pain, but he didn’t complain when Kokichi or Keebo or Kaito or Shuichi wanted to try new kinks. No one was a masochist that they so badly wanted, so he faked it. For them.

He was actually glad they enjoyed doing this, as it gave him the pain he so desperately deserved and he didn’t have to do it. Plus they couldn’t tell what cuts they made and what cuts he made. God, no he wasn’t a masochist, but he loved pain. He deserved it. He looked down at his chipped and bitten nails. He had gotten in the habit again. 

“Useless.” His father grunted to him and Rantaro flinched, smiling. “Yeah, I know.” He said aloud. 

His heart stopped as he heard voices and footsteps outside. He peered out the window. They all lived in the same apartment building, the whole class. But as he looked, he could see everyone else exciting out of a bus, probably coming back from a party. They looked excited and happy. Without him. Good. They’ll move on easier. Rantaro smiled softly, jotting down one more quick note before signing his name and sitting back down on the couch. He was in a place where they wouldn’t automatically see him, and it was closed off enough that they wouldn’t have to look at it each day and remember his shitty self laying there.

“Feeling’ super, super, super, suicidal.” He sang Teen Idle quietly to himself as he laid down, smiling. He liked that song, when it brought tears to his eyes when he listened to it at midnight. He remembered once when he was caught.

//

“Taro..? What are you doin-” Kokichi’s voice interrupted him as Rantaro snapped his head up, looking at the open door. His headphones were in his ears, a mixture of a few songs playing. He ripped the headphones off then looked down at the blood cascading down on his thighs. 

“Kokichi- Get out now-!” Rantaro had yelled, waking up the others. Kaito rushed in. “Rantaro- Oh my god-” Rantaro had tried to shut the door, but Keebo grabbed it and stopped him. That was the day they dragged him out even as he reassured him that he was okay. Shuichi had booked him his therapist's appointment and gave him his antidepressants. Rantaro rused, obviously. He didn’t want them wasting their time on him, so he ran away and left. After three weeks, the messages stopped. A week later he came back home, but they didn’t talk to him about it. That made him glad. A year later led to...

//

Now.   
Shuichi still thought he went to the therapist and took the meds. He didn’t, and he was much more careful with getting caught now. He hated the worried looks Kaito sometimes shot him. He laughed yet again and grinned, laying back and shutting his eyes.

“I love you guys. I’m fine, don’t worry.” He said to himself, placing the gun by his head and pulling the trigger.

-

The gunshot rang out through the building. Kokichi, Kaito, Shuichi and Keebo had taken the stairs, rushing up to see their boyfriend. The gunshot made them all flinch and suddenly Kirumi and Tenko had sprinted past them. 

“Taro..”   
Keebo whispered out and in a single moment, their hearts dropped and they rushed to their apartment. The door was open and Tenko stood in front, very pale and eyes wide. 

“I-I can’t let you in-”   
She looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Let us in!”

“Kirumi said you don’t want to see it!”

“Let us in, goddamnit! We want to see our boyfriend.”

“Tenko, please!!”

Kokichi shoved past her and stormed in. He turned the corner and saw Kirumi, next to-

No. NO!

He fell to his knees, Kaito and Shuichi and Keebo soon following. Kaito let out a wail and ran to Rantaro’s side. 

“Nononononononononono-” Shuichi was quietly chanting to himself and Keebo just stared.

Kaito cradled the greenette’s limp hand and soon after, the class came in. 

“Rantaro!”

“Amami!! No!!!

“Oh my Atua-”

“Why did this happen?!!”

“I suppose it’s a way of life..”

“No!! Rantaro why!??”

They all just stared in horror at the blood splattered over the couch, floof, gun and pale cheek. Rantaro’s head hung limply, a ghostly smile on his face. Dried tear streaks were on his cheeks. 

Kokichi just screamed as Gonta and Ryoma pulled him out of the door.

His beloved Rantaro was gone.

Why did no one notice?

-

I know you’re all probably wondering why I did it. Well, it’s a whole lotta things that I won’t go into because I don’t want to burden you, but the short thing is - It’s not like I’ll be missed. You’ll move on. Plus, I’ve already died once. I just didn’t want people to worry over a disappointment like me. Thanks anyways for putting up with my stupid, selfish self. Don’t worry, I’m fine. You’ll be fine.

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-

That part was scribbled out messily. Teardrops were splattered on the note, that was neatly folded in the jacket pocket. As soon as it was read out, Kaito snatched it, read it himself, before ripping it up and sobbing. Shuichi was curled up in the corner and Keebo still hadn’t moved from where he stood.

He was gone and they hadn’t noticed how deep the cracks in his mask ran until it was too late.

-

See you all eventually,

Love Rantaro Amami :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> ahahhaha I swear im fine


End file.
